By the time Samara joined the others, the three men were donning suits and checking their weapons. Opening the spare locker where they’d stored her gear and setting down the Repository she carried tucked under her arm, the Protean spent several long moments regarding her own suit.

“Need some privacy?” Remi asked. “Seems a bit out of character.”

She ignored the innuendo. “Just debating whether to wear it,” she shrugged.

“You know there’s no air over there, right?” Slavko said, incredulous at the very notion.

Samara turned and gave him a dismissive glance. “After seeing my condition when I arrived, do you really need to ask me that? I’ve survived much worse, I assure you.”

The gunner held up his hands in surrender and backed off, while Remi cocked his head toward the suit. “Put it on,” he suggested. “It’s an extra layer of protection, and it might buy you a few minutes if the worst happens. I don’t see how it can hurt.”

The Protean considered that for a second and then started peeling off her clothing. “I guess that makes sense,” she said at last, “though it could get in the way if I need to shift. Not for long, granted, depending on the form I take, but it’s a concern.”

Isi just shook his head. “I’ll say this, you’ve got unique problems,” he told her, earning him a throaty chuckle in return.

“My dear, you have no idea,” she laughed, as she started pulling on her suit, when Mairead appeared in their midst, a thick coil of looped cable slung over her shoulder.

“Here,” she told the captain, removing the wire loop and thrusting it into his hands. “Three hundred meters of fiber-optical cable, as requested. Plug it into the intercom next to the airlock on both ships, and we should be able to keep up comms without the Troika listening in.”

“Excellent,” he said in approval, setting the bundle down as he finished prepping. “Anything else I should know about?”

“Yeah… avoid any demo charges that didn’t go off completely,” she warned. “There’s no way to tell from here if they blew like they were supposed to, and if any didn’t… stay the fuck away from them.”

“Good advice,” he agreed, the others nodding along with him. “I’m counting on you and Xuilan to take care of Gyrfalcon while we’re gone and watch our backs. Don’t let me down.”

“We won’t,” she promised, touching him and the other men briefly on the shoulders before departing in haste, though she turned up her nose at Samara as she strode past her. The Protean seemed to find the display amusing, but then she usually did.

“Need some hardware?” Remi asked Samara, gesturing towards the Arms locker.

Viewing the cabinet with a practiced eye, she reached in and selected a pair of matched autoloaders, giving each a quick function check as she tested their action. The pistols broke crisply and cleanly, the triggers taut and without obvious wear. “Nice,” she said in approval, before assembling a two-gun tactical drop-leg rig and fitting it over her suit, cinching it down tight. She gave the pistols a simultaneous twirl, showing off, before ramming them home, and then reached in a removed a large fighting knife, with a jaggedly notched back. Removing it from the sheath, she balanced the point on the tip of her finger, checking its weight, before replacing it in its scabbard and strapping it down over her breast.

Remi watched the display with interest, earning him a wink. “Sometimes I enjoy having a stealth option,” she explained.

“Say no more,” he shrugged. If there’d been any lingering doubts regarding her previous line of work… and for the record, there hadn’t been… that little display would have quickly answered them. The skill, professionalism, and economy of movement as she geared up, despite the flourish at the end, practically screamed “Cold-Blooded Assassin”.

Strapping on his own weapons of choice, Remi performed a final functions check of the crew’s suits as they donned their helmets. In turn, Isi checked his gear, before the captain moved on to Samara. She gracefully allowed him to make a couple of minor adjustments before he was satisfied, as they took up their helmets and secured them in place. Moving to the airlock, he gave them a final once-over. “Last chance to grab something,” he reminded them, securing the fiber-optic cable to his harness. “Once we’re outside, stay off comms unless it’s an emergency. Don’t underestimate the Troika’s ability to pick up radio chatter.”

“Understood,” Slavko answered for the others, earning him a nod as he opened the hatch, while Samara gave him a thumb’s up. Stepping inside, he sealed the compartment, cycling the atmosphere as he slowly pumped out the air, leaving them in vacuum. As the light turned green, Remi opened the exterior hatch, pulling himself out onto the ship’s hull as he connected the cable. Once it was secure, Isi linked to his harness and began towing him across the chasm between the two ships, freeing up his hands so he could play out the line. They took their time, ensuring the cable didn’t snag or twist, the three Corsairs moving as a unit while Samara swam beside them with practiced ease.

Carefully braking as they approached Tyr, Remi felt the purser’s booted feet land on the hull, bringing them both to a halt before he detached. He took the free end of the cable and made the last connection, securing the excess line on the hull as Slavko cycled the airlock, allowing them entrance. As expected, Tyr no longer possessed an internal atmosphere, making the process somewhat moot, but on the off chance there were still pockets of oxygen, it seemed the safer choice.

As the inner hatch opened, the captain tapped into the comm system. “Tyr to Gyrfalcon, do you read me?” he queried, testing the circuit.

“Loud and clear,” Xuilan replied. “Any problems?”

“Not yet,” he responded. “Any updates on our friends?”

“Computer decided we’re looking at an Eleexx ship, possibly a frigate or destroyer. It’s still crunching the numbers,” she reported.

He considered their options while he digested the news. It wasn’t as bad as he’d feared, but it still wasn’t great. “What are the crew complements?” he asked the pilot.

“If it’s a frigate, about sixty. If it’s a destroyer, it could be three times that,” she answered as he tried not to wince.

“All right, keep monitoring the situation. We’ll call when we can. Good luck,” he told her.

“You too 8,” she said softly, before signing off.

Samara was already watching him closely as he approached, touching his helmet to hers. “Xui says it’s Eleexx, either a frigate or a destroyer. You’re looking at fifty to almost two hundred enemies, depending,” he shouted to make himself heard.

“No problem,” she shouted back, her voice muffled through the helmet’s polycarbonate face shield.

“Two hundred is no problem?” he said in disbelief. “Samara, I know you’re good, but…”

“I said it’s no problem,” she fired back, interrupting him. “I’ve done this before. Trust me.”

And there it was. Oddly enough, this was perhaps the one area where he did implicitly trust her, if by “trust”, one meant being secure in the knowledge she was more than capable of committing extreme acts of violence and mayhem. Still… two hundred…

She stood there, watching him. And, of course, they were fully committed, and there was no turning back. “Where do you want us?” he asked her since there was nothing else to be said.

Glancing around the corridor, she took a moment to assess the tactical situation, likely in consultation with Guardian, or one of the other personalities. In fact, he’d noticed a slight head tilt whenever she was speaking to them, and he was certain he spotted it now. Finally, she pointed to the left. “I’m headed for engineering, and once I trigger the antineutrino pulse, it should the search party my way. You should set up in the opposite direction, somewhere out of sight. I think there are a couple of storerooms down that way which would work.”

He nodded in agreement as he realized her plan, giving her a thumbs up. She smiled and then scurried off, the repository still clutched under her arm, as he grabbed the other men, silently indicating where he wanted them to take refuge, far from Samara’s location. The three of them made their way into a storage room, piling up a few crates for better concealment before sitting down to wait, as Remi checked his chronometer.

Forty-nine minutes and counting.

Samara wasted no time getting to engineering. The clock was already ticking, though thankfully the preparations she needed to activate her lure would not take long. The engine compartment was much like they’d left it, unlike other areas of the ship they’d intentionally damaged, leaving this space mostly intact seemed the smart play. If worst came to worst, they might need to reactivate Tyr, and that wouldn’t be possible if engineering was shattered beyond repair. Out here, that could be a fatal mistake.

Well, fatal for the others, at least. Her… not so much.

“Guardian, tell Mashad it’s time,” she informed the Cognate. “We’ve got work to do.”

He is standing by, Guardian replied. Initiating transfer now.

And just like that, Samara was no longer in control. Her entire demeanor changed, her posture, her mannerisms; had anyone been watching, it would have been immediately obvious to them that something was now very different about her.

Artificer 1st Grade Mashod Dillosh took a moment to orient himself, before moving to one of the nearby power couplings, inspecting the device to ensure the energy flow had been properly interrupted before moving forward. Satisfied, he began disconnecting the armored conduit, a job that normally required specialized tools, but given Samara’s increased physical abilities, it was a simple enough matter to do it by hand. Once it was disconnected, he carefully braced the bare end to prevent it from moving, carefully placing the Repository before it and inspecting his work.

All was in readiness.

Samara silently observed his labors, refraining from commentary. It wasn’t her area of expertise, and if one of the Cognates had ever made a mistake, she’d yet to see it. It was almost terrifying how incredibly skilled they were at their assigned roles, an ability that seemed to border on the preternatural. That earned an inward chuckle; given how other Terrans perceived her. By either nature or design, the Cognates operated on a higher level and did so effortlessly. It was a rare human indeed that could match their skill, fewer still that could manage it consistently.

It was humbling to watch. Pity Azrael never saw this, she mused. Now that was someone who needed to learn some humility.

She shoved that thought out of her head as Mashod ambulated her body over to a nearby console, making a series of adjustments. The equipment hummed to life, earning more scrutiny from the Cognate as he further calibrated the device’s output before finally closing the circuit, sending a stream of particles directly into the Repository’s exterior casing.

There was no observable difference she could see, but Guardian had explained to her it would create a resonance detectable by Troika sensors.

That suited her just fine, as a wintry smile played around her lips.

“Cap’n, we got something,” Xuilan suddenly announced in his ear, jolting his head up.

“Talk to me,” Remi growled. He’d plugged into the comm system once they’d found their hiding spot but had maintained radio silence. Best way to avoid being overheard was simply not say anything.

“Looks like that ship spotted something. They’ve just changed course,” the pilot reported. “They’re making a beeline for Tyr as we speak. ETA, twenty-one minutes.”

“Understood,” he replied. “Keep me posted if anything changes.”

“Copy,” she answered, before going silent once more.

Getting the other men’s attention, he gave them a thumbs up followed by two fingers and a circle, bringing them both up to speed.

Soon, his mind whispered as he checked his weapons.

Samara left the Repository behind in engineering while she made her way back to the airlock. While she preferred to keep the relic close at hand, it wasn’t actually necessary. Apparently, they were connected by some form of quantum entanglement, but when Guardian had attempted to explain how it operated, it soon became apparent the math was beyond her. That was fine with her. As long as it worked, she didn’t particularly care how it worked. Leaving it behind meant the lure remained active, drawing in the Troika search party while she slipped in behind them and dealt with the ones who remained behind. She had every confidence Remi, and his crew could handle the mopping up aboard Tyr.

And if not, well… C’est la vie.

“Cap’n,” Xuilan whispered, “Eleexx ship is docking with Tyr. Computer confirmed it’s a frigate. No sign we’ve been spotted.”

“Stay vigilant, and be ready,” he ordered, giving Slavko and Isi the “Wind it up” signal as all three men trained their weapons on the hatch. The team the Troika sent in for the Repository would hit hard and fast, he reasoned, trusting their superior technology and secure in the knowledge no one would dare stand against them, especially when they discovered Tyr had been abandoned. So, figure five minutes to dock and transfer over, another five to locate engineering…

Remi held up five fingers, then two, before pointing at the hatch. Both men nodded in receipt of his orders. In seven minutes they’d secure the airlock, cutting off the search team’s escape, while Samara handled the crew still aboard the ship.

You’re cutting it awful close, Remi admonished himself, the adrenaline surge roaring within his veins.

From her concealed perch, Samara spotted the airlock hatch cycling open, as a squad of eight Eleexx crew members emerged one by one, entering the Terran ship, their weapons at the ready. They fanned out to cover the corridors while the last member of the group… an officer, by the looks of it… followed behind, consulting a handheld tracking device. After a moment, the commander pointed towards engineering, the squad folding in around him as they obeyed, scurrying off towards the Repository.

Perfect.

She gave them two minutes to clear the area before emerging from her hiding spot, bounding to the airlock as she activated the hatch. Drawing her pistols and charging them, she braced at the inner hatch as she subvocalized a command.

Cherdor, old buddy… now.

An icy stillness filled her as the hatch slid open, sighting in on the nearest crewman as it gazed up at her in shock… milliseconds before a hole appeared in its skull as she rushed past.

Remi rose to his feet as the others moved with him, slipping out of the storage room as they made for the airlock. Assuming things had gone off as planned, Samara should already be inside the Eleexx vessel wreaking havoc. All they had to do was take a position and await the ones still aboard Tyr. A few minutes of butchery, and the prize would be theirs… assuming everything went according to plan.

And if it didn’t?

Then things would get… interesting.